


The Stolen Bride

by ekreider



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27901039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ekreider/pseuds/ekreider
Summary: Gendry grew up in Winterfell after King Robert asked his best friend to take care of his bastard. Gendry always admired Jon’s little sister, and after Jon left, she quickly filled his spot as Gendry’s best friend. Now, years later, the Wildlings come to settle at Winterfell, sent by Commander Snow to protect his family from the Others. The Wildlings bring with them their own customs. The “Gendry steals Arya” oneshot we all needed.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 19
Kudos: 226





	1. Chapter 1

The Stolen Bride

Summary: Gendry grew up in Winterfell after King Robert asked his best friend to take care of his bastard. Gendry always admired Jon’s little sister, and after Jon left, she quickly filled his spot as Gendry’s best friend. Now, years later, the Wildlings come to settle at Winterfell, sent by Commander Snow to protect his family from the Others. The Wildlings bring with them their own customs. The “Gendry steals Arya” oneshot we all needed.

When King Robert came to Winterfell after the Hand’s death, everyone thought it was to ask Lord Eddard Stark to be his new Hand. All of their beliefs turned out to be wrong when Robert turned to his best friend in the crypts of Winterfell to take his bastard son and raise him as his own.

“I don’t know how that blasted woman managed to kill Jon, but I know she had something to do with it. I want the boy away from her. His mother is dead, and I can’t protect him. This is the least I could do. You have already fostered Theon, and I know how you treat your own bastard. I was hoping you could do the same for mine.”

Later on when Ned was getting ready for bed, Catelyn turned to him, “I don’t know, Ned. Having one bastard around is one thing. At least Jon is your own blood. But with another one, people will think that this place is the dumping grounds for bastards. Think of the girls! What would happen to them if this boy gave into his cravings?”

“Being a bastard does not mean he will act a fool, Cat. And we’ll help raise him. We’ll give him a better life than anyone else would.”

Catelyn scowled at her husband.

Ned sighed, “Robert is my friend, and his son needs my help. I’m going to say yes.”

(*&*)

Arya was confused when the black haired boy stayed when the rest of the caravan left. She had pulled on Jon’s cloak to ask him about it.

“I don’t know why he’s here,” Jon shrugged.

“Well, what’s his name?”

“I don’t know,” Jon said, “I never noticed him before.”

Arya stared at the older boy as he stared at the leaving trail of people somewhat longingly. “We’re going to go ask him.”

And she had pulled Jon towards the boy.

(*&*)

“We have something for you,” Jon had whispered into Arya’s ear at her nameday feast. “Me and Gendry. Come to the forge when you can, and we’ll give it to you.”

Arya was so excited that she could hardly sit still the rest of the meal. Sansa and her mother had to send her shooting glares to get her to renew her lady-like facade.

When she heard her father laugh a little too loudly and watching him pull her mother onto the dance floor, she knew it was time to slip out.

She snuck her way around the shadows of the Great Hall and out the front door. She picked up her new teal dress to run across the courtyard towards the glowing warmth of the forge. Jon and Gendry were already there, laughing at some joke Jon had said.

Gendry was the first one to notice her, smiling one of his rare smiles, “There she is!”

He ushered her into the forge and sat her down on the anvil. “Are you ready for your surprise?”

Arya kicked her legs excitedly, “Yes!”

Gendry smiled softer this time, “Close your eyes.”

Her eyes instantly closed and she covered her eyes with her hands.

“Okay,” Jon said, “You can open them.”

In Gendry’s sooty hands was a new gleaming sword, long and skinny and shiny and light and perfect.

“For me?” Arya asked.

Jon laughed, “For you. Gendry made it, and I’ll teach you how to use it.”

Arya had hugged them both.

(*&*)

A couple months later, Arya raced into the forge out of breath and frightened. 

Gendry immediately looked up, taking in Arya’s tattered breeches and low cut shirt. As always, Needle was attached to her hip.

“Arya?” Gendry asked, fearing she was in trouble.

“Hide me!” Arya cried, crawling under her work table. Gendry immediately moved a bucket of water between his hidden lady and the door to block her view. Just as he returned to his side of the table, a sweat-soaked and irate Septa swung the door to the forge open.

“Where is she?” Septa Mordane asked with contempt in her voice.

“Where is who?” asked Gendry, pretending that he had no idea what was going on.

“Where is that rebellious Wildling of a girl?!”

Gendry paused as if he was putting the pieces together, “You mean Arya?” he shrugged, “I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

The Septa almost screamed before running off to the next place to find Arya.

Gendry sat down and stared at Arya.

“She didn’t like my stitches again.” Arya whispered. “There’s only so much I can take.”

Gendry did not smile or laugh, but his eyes glinted in amusement, “Do you want to tend to the flames while I get this next piece ready?”

Arya smiled, “Absolutely.”

(*&*)

When Arya heard the knock on her door, she almost did not realize it was their secret knock. Usually it was she that used the triple knock when she was running away from her Septa, but this time, it was he who clumsily used it.

She opened the door, and the young man shifted in his spot, “Your mother wants me to join the family at the High Table. But I don’t know what to wear. You all wear such fancy clothes, and I can’t find Jon.”

Arya studied him for a second, “Well, I don’t think you’re going to fit into my gowns. Let’s go to Jon’s room. Maybe he’ll have something to fit you.”

(*&*)

When Jon had suggested a ride through the woods, Gendry had not imagined Arya joining them, but here she was, beating them all through the woods. Gendry laughed in amazement as Arya’s horse jumped over a fallen tree and seamlessly kept going. 

Jon and Gendry followed the smaller girl over the tree clumsily, picking back up speed once they cleared the branches. There was a break in the trees up ahead, and Gendry watched as Arya tilted her head back to watch the clouds. He had never seen something so spell-binding in his life.

(*&*)

“You’re really going to leave?” Gendry asked.

Jon nodded, clothed in black, “Father told me he would take me most of the way there, but after that, I’ll be on my own.”

Gendry paused, “What does that mean for me?” he asked.

Jon scrunched his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

Gendry shrugged, “I mean, will they make me go take the Black soon as well?”

Jon smiled and shook his head, “You can stay here as long as you want. Lady Catelyn can get rid of me, but she will have to deal with the king if she makes you leave as well. Just do me one favor: take care of Arya. She never really fit in around here, the same as you and me.”

Gendry had nodded.

(*&*)

Gendry watched the younger girl watch her brother leave with tears in her eyes.

“Maybe they’ll let you go visit the Wall someday,” Gendry tried to console.

Arya looked up at him with eyes wiser than her years, “No. They won’t. It’s no place for a lady. And the Brothers will never let him come back to his family. This is the last time I’ll ever see him.”

(*&*)

Gendry looked out the forge door to watch Arya flip Bran’s sword through the air. Bran raised his hands as Arya held her own sword towards her brother’s neck.

Gendry snorted to himself. He had heard Bran bragging about how he would school his big sister tomorrow during their duel. Gendry had put five gold coins on Arya, his whole monthly allowance. He had not even bothered to show up to the match the way so many people had. He knew he would get his money’s worth.

“I got twenty gold coins off of your win today,” he told her at dinner.

She sighed, “I’m a little disappointed that you earned that much of a profit off of me.”

Gendry just chuckled.

(*&*)

“What was your mother like?” Arya asked one day as they tied their horses up by a stream. This was one tradition that did not die after Jon left years ago. They always took a ride through the forest so that Gendry could watch Arya’s head tip back. A warm spell had dripped over the North, drying up snow and leaving women sweltering in their thick gowns. It had been easy to slip out of Winterfell when everyone had fallen into a sweaty, drowsy sleep in the middle of the afternoon.

He shrugged, “I don’t really remember. I just know she had yellow hair.”

“That’s it?” Arya asked.

“That’s it. She worked at a tavern when my father met her, but I never knew much more than that.” Gendry sat at the water’s edge.

Arya stepped waist-deep into the stream, dripping her hair into the cold water to cool off. Gendry watched the water drip down her white shirt, making it transparent. Through it, he could see the bindings around her breasts that her mother had started forcing Arya to wear.

Arya looked over her shoulder, “Did your father tell you that?”

“Yes, when we came down here. He got drunk one night around the campfire and came to found me. He told me the way they met. And the way that he fucked her.”

Arya scrunched up her nose, and turned to look at him. He could see the front of her bindings now, “He told you that.”

Gendry shrugged, “I wish he hadn’t, but men tend to tell those stories.”

“Is that why people ask you for stories about me?” Arya asked.

Gendry shook his head, “No. They don’t think that’s going on. They just don’t know what goes on when we’re alone.”

Arya nodded, stepping out of the stream. Her riding breeches stuck to her strong legs, “Mother wants me to stop spending time with you. She says that people will start to talk.”

“They will.”

Arya laid down next to him, her feet still in the water, “Why?”

Gendry laughed, “Because you’re a grown woman now. And you’re spending a good portion of your days with a debased bastard.”

Arya rolled over onto her side, setting her head on one of her hands and playing in the grass with her free one, “You wouldn’t do anything like that unless I wanted you to.”

“That’s true,” Gendry said, watching her swipe her hand over the top of the grass.

(*&*)

Arya pushed the back room to the forge open as Gendry tried to use his nondominant hand to clean the wound on his other one.

“You punched somebody,” she said, angrily.

“Aye, I did,” Gendry said, looking up at her. During these moments, when she was mad, Gendry saw what little was left of the nine year old girl he met with Jon the day the caravan left. She had grown into her looks, her face not looking long at all and her hair combed into a plait. She was wearing a dress that showed the curves she had grown over the years. She was no longer a girl. She was a woman. And, just like Gendry had warned a year ago in the grass, people had started to talk.

“You can’t punch people!” Arya scolded, grabbing his hand to clean it herself.

“It was just Theon,” Gendry defended.

“Yes, but you also punched everyone that came to his aid. Poor Robb has a black eye now.”

“He was in my way!”

Arya looked up at him, exasperated.

She roughly dabbed at the bleeding scrape.

“Ow! Arya that is not going to help.”

“What did they say?” Arya asked.

“Theon was talking about a prostitute he had had the night before. He said he was going to go back tonight and asked me if I wanted to share her. Then, he said ‘oh, wait. I forgot you’ll be fucking Arya against the anvil around then. Tell me, does she howl like a wolf when she comes?’”

“And then what?” Arya asked.

“And then I punched him!” 

Arya tied his hand up in silence after that, a vibrating energy coming off of her that Gendry had never noticed before. When she was done, she held onto his hand, “Please don’t punch anyone again, okay?”

Gendry nodded.

“Walk me out?” Arya asked.

Gendry nodded again, and as they passed through the forge, he noticed Arya’s eyes lingering on the anvil a little too long.

(*&*)

Gendry joined Arya on the wall as she watched the caravan take the carriage far away from Winterfell.

“I’ve never been to Highgarden,” Gendry said. Arya just made a noise in the back of her throat. “I heard it’s nice though. Lots of flowers. I think Sansa will be happy there.” Arya just made another noise.

Gendry shifted, not knowing what to do next.

It was then that Arya finally spoke, “I’ll be next. Robb’s married. Sansa’s on her way to get married. Bran is engaged. Unless they try to marry to marry Rickon off before he even knows what sex is, I’ll be next. Trapped in a horrible marriage far away from here.”

Gendry’s heart stuttered, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Arya faced him, “Me neither.”

They stayed staring at each other until Arya turned back to the carriage. 

(*&*)

“Hey, Stupid,” Arya tapped on his head as he sat staring at the books in front of him. Gendry was an okay reader by now, but this book was a lot harder than he realized when he had picked it up.

Arya sat down on the table beside him as Gendry finally looked up. “When did you get here?” Gendry asked.

Arya laughed. She was wearing a black and gold dress today that was probably a little too low cut for her mother’s liking. With her hair pulled back in a Northern bun, though, she almost looked like a proper lady. Gendry even noticed that her lips were now a deeper red than usual and her cheeks just a little more pink.

“I’ve been talking to you for five minutes now.” Arya shook her head.

“Oh. Sorry, I was reading.”

“Clearly,” Arya laughed. “What are you reading?”

Gendry tried to snatch the book out of her hands, but it was too late. Arya had already seen it.

“Why are you reading about the sexuality of bastards?”

“No reason,” Gendry said, snatching the book out of her hands.

“The chapter you’re reading is about bastards’ infatuation with fucking high ladies.” Arya said, holding onto the book.

“It’s nothing, Arry. Leave it alone.”

Arya held on still, her eyes never leaving his, “Which one of us?” Arya asked.

“What?” Gendry sputtered.

Arya’s eyes remained steady, “The only high ladies here are me and my mother. So which one of us do you want to fuck?”

Gendry tried to make noise, but his mouth would only make random noises.

“Is it my mother you want to fuck?” Arya asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course not!” he said.

“So it’s me.”

Electricity seemed to radiate off them both. The only sound in the room was the soft snapping of the fire.

“I don’t wear any underclothes under my dresses,” Arya said lightly. 

Her hand came to Gendry’s shirt, lightly tugging it.

Gendry resisted the pull, thinking of all the things that could go wrong, the people that could see, the things a kiss with Arya would awaken in him, the way their friendship could crumble, the look on Ned’s face when he found out, the way Lady Catelyn would look when she kicked Gendry out of Winterfell.

And, yet, he found his face coming closer to hers. He could smell her perfume, feel her breath on his face, almost taste what she had for breakfast. He stood, their faces so close their noses brushed against each other. Gendry watched as Arya’s eyes involuntarily fluttered closed as he got even closer.

With their lips almost brushing, Gendry said, “I’m so sorry, Arya.” His lips brushed hers as he said the words in a mocking of the kiss he wanted to press to the red temptations.

He left the library before he could see her crushed face.

(*&*)

Arya avoided Gendry for the next couple of months, confusing everybody. Ned had asked his daughter if Gendry had done something wrong. Even Jeyne had come to ask Arya if Gendry had hurt her, grabbing her hands. Arya had waved all of their fears away, but still, the people wondered why the inseparable pair were now completely separated. There was more talk then than there ever had been about their relationship. 

Gendry was never more lonely.

Arya, for her part, had never been more proper. She wore dresses all the time now, sitting still by her mother with the other ladies, working on horrible needlework, and reading countless books. Her mother had never been prouder, and the lady had started talking to her husband about securing a match for her youngest daughter. Jeyne became Arya’s constant companion, dragging Arya away from Gendry whenever he tried to approach her.

Still, Needle remained on Arya’s hip, just like it always had. No one asked her to take it off.

One day, a guard warned of a caravan coming down the road towards Winterfell. Lord Eddard told his family that he had received a black crow from the North, and that new people were coming to stay with them. Though Lady Catelyn tried to persuade her husband, Arya saw that her father’s mind was made up.

So, that day, they all gathered in the courtyard to welcome their new visitors. Gendry arranged himself to stand behind Arya. 

“I just want to talk,” he said quietly into her ear.

“We’ve had months to talk, and now you want to?” Arya asked back.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“We live in the same castle, Stupid. My room is the same one it always has been.”

“What kind of message would that send if I snuck into your room.”

“Trust me, you’ve already sent that message loud and clear.”

“Arry,” Gendry whispered painfully.

He tried to grab her hand, but she smacked his away. 

The gate opened, and Gendry kept silent.

A tall red-headed man towered over all of the Northerners as he looked at the castle. He smiled as he took confident steps toward the Lord of Winterfell.

“You must be Crow’s father!” he grabbed Ned’s hand, shaking it vigorously.

“I am,” Ned said calmly.

Gendry peered curiously at the other people coming in through the gate. They were all wearing white clothing and had a rough exterior. Wildlings, he realized.

“Crow sent us down here to protect you all. Just a small amount of us to help to prepare for the battle.”

Ned seemed regretful. “You are welcome here, believe me. As long as you all behave properly, you all are welcome in the castle to our hearth and meal.”

“Aye,” the red-headed man said, “We’ll help you, all right. But our customs will be respected. For now, we are equal partners in this fight.”

Ned thought about it and then nodded, “Very well.”

(*&*)

The Wildlings seemed to take a liking to Westerosi women. They liked that they would not fight them, how easy they were to steal, and how exotic they seemed to the men who were not familiar with the culture. Stealings became commonplace as well as respected as legitimate marriages. Gendry soon got the grasp of the stealing procedures. A man would choose a woman they wanted as a wife, and they would try to steal them. The woman could choose to kill the man rather than marry him. Another man could kill the other man if he wanted her as his bride instead. Either way, the stealing either ended with a man throwing his bride over his shoulder to take her to consummate the marriage or with a woman wiping the man’s blood off of her sword.

Northern women started to learn to protect themselves, hoping to fend off a Wildling attack that might end in them marrying. Arya ended up teaching multiple lessons a day to the inexperienced women. Whenever a woman lost, Arya would hang her head, knowing she had failed to give the woman the ability to secure her freedom.

Still, no one tried to fight Arya. Either it was because she was the only woman who knew what she was doing or because she was Lord Eddard’s daughter. The wildling men still talked of what it would be like to fuck her. A popular game among them was to see who had the best imitation of what they thought she would sound like in bed. They made Gendry’s blood roar.

He had asked Lord Eddard why he put up with the Wildlings. Lord Eddard had brought him to a map where the Wildlings had pointed out groups of others in the North. Lord Eddard then showed him the plans the Wildlings had to end the war in the North at Winterfell.

“If I kick them out, we hold no chance to defeat this army.”

Gendry was stunned. In the end, he had only nodded.

(*&*)

The war did come. Lord Commander Snow had arrived with the survivors of the Night’s Watch that the Wall had fallen. They had rushed to protect Winterfell. Gendry and Arya had both fought in the battle, although neither Lord Eddard or Lady Stark had known. Jon had been the one to press his sword clean through the heart of the Night King.

Winterfell was saved, and everyone had celebrated.

Wine was brought up from the cellar. A great meal was dolled out to everyone. The Wildlings became louder and louder, just like everyone else. Everyone left their weapons in their rooms. There was no reason to have them now, and they were tired of seeing them after the battle anyway.

It wasn’t until later on that night that Gendry realized that had been a mistake. Stealings became more and more prominent as the night grew on and the wine flowed.

Gendry saw the Wildling approach Arya out of the corner of his eye. The man was obviously drunk, but he was also twice the size of Arya. And Needle was missing from Arya’s belt.

He watched as the Wildling man tried to grab hold of Arya. She ducked under his arms, slamming her hand into the man’s back. Gendry saw the Night’s Watch Brothers grab onto their commander. Jon’s vows kept him from protecting his sister. And, either way, if he won, he would have to marry his sister and if he lost he would be dead.

Gendry turned back to the fight as the Wildling snagged Arya’s hand. He tried to throw her over his shoulder, but her knee came down on his stomach instead. Arya tried to twist out of his grip, but it was too strong for her. She would have to win the fight with just one hand. The man twisted her around by her arm, and she tripped over a bench. The man got on top of her, trying to pin her down. The crowd that had gathered to watch cheered. Arya tried to flip him over, but a column kept her from twisting him the rest of the way.

Arya would lose this fight, Gendry realized. She would lose, and it would not be because she could not have won but because the man had taken advantage of her situation. 

He saw red in that moment. He grabbed a butter knife from the table as the crowd applauded the spectacle. He grabbed the man by his hair and sliced the butter knife through his eye. The man fell dead on Arya as the crowd roared with excitement.

Gendry threw the man off of Arya, bringing her up by her arms. They stared at each other for a moment, realizing what this meant. Arya would either have to kill him or marry him.

He saw something in her eyes change. She made no move to fight. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked.

Gendry did not spare a second thought before throwing her over his shoulder as the crowd jumped and clapped.

Arya’s hands were already roaming over his back as he opened the door to the forge. He did not turn to his room in the back of the forge, rather setting his new wife on the anvil in front of the heat of the fire.

“We don’t have to--” 

Arya interrupted him with a scathing kiss. “If you do that again, I can still choose to kill you.”

Gendry’s eyes turned darker as she opened her legs to offer herself to him. She was wearing a dress again, and Gendry knew there was nothing underneath.

“I don’t just want to fuck you,” he told her, hoping she would get the meaning.

“I know,” Arya said, “Me too.”

Gendry let himself kiss her then, and the noise that came from her made it even better. His hand came to the side of her neck, kissing her in the scathing way he wished he had kissed her in the library. His other hand came to her clothed breast, swiping over the hill before coming to the ties at the back of her dress.

“Just lift up the skirt,” Arya said impatiently.

Gendry shook his head, “I want you naked on my anvil. I want to be able to picture this whenever I’m working.”

Arya’s breath hitched. “Hurry up then.”

Gendry smiled as he pulled at the bow, loosening the dress enough to allow it to slip over her head. When the cloth finally cleared her head, Gendry finally got a clear view of her bindings.

He stepped back, sitting on a workbench. “Take them off.”

Arya smiled devilishly, reaching behind her to pull the bindings loose. When she was done, she spread her legs for him. There she sat on his anvil where he pounded steel everyday perfectly naked, her breasts and center gleaming at him in the light.

“Is this what you wanted?” Arya asked. “Is this what you pictured that made you read that book?”

Gendry nodded.

“Me too,” Arya breathed.

Gendry’s pants could not get any tighter, “Tilt your head back.”

Arya took her hair down from her bun before tilting her head, letting the brown curls fall down her back. That was enough for Gendry.

He soared towards her, sucking a spot on her neck that made her toes curl. She groaned his name softly, making his hands travel back to her breasts. He sucked at her nipples, teasing them with his tongue to make her hips jump. 

“Take off your shirt,” Arya commanded.

Gendry looked up at her, “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

Arya smiled deviously, “I’m your wife.”

He had never taken his shirt off quicker. His kisses trailed down her stomach as her hands drifted across his back. When he arrived at her center, her hand travelled to his hair, grabbing onto it to stabilize herself as his tongue parted her folds. 

“Fuck.”

Gendry had heard Arya curse many times before, but this time it made his cock twitch.

He found the little nub, licking it quickly to make her hips come off of the anvil. She moaned at the feeling, and after a while of that her legs started to shake.

“Gendry,” she begged. For what, she did not know until Gendry’s fingers entered her, fucking her quickly until her heart stuttered. She froze for a second before her body seized on Gendry’s fingers.

“Fuck,” he said, drawing his finger out of her, “Are you alright?”

Arya looked up at him with glassy eyes, “Did you really just ask me if I am alright. I’m fantastic.” She crooked her finger at him, “Now, come and make me your wife.”

Gendry smiled, his fingers already working at his drawstrings.

His pants fell, and he lined himself up, “I’ve wanted to fuck you here since Theon mentioned it to me.”

She kissed him, “I’ve wanted to fuck you here ever since you punched him.”

He entered her slowly, making a keen fall from her lips. She was so warm and soft and tight. He withdrew before slamming back. The moan that came out of her mouth was heavenly to him. He reached behind her to hold her back as he picked up the pace. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she helped him. She groaned in his ear before sucking on the earlobe. His hips stuttered.

“Arry,” he gasped. He changed his angle, and her head fell back. “Right there, baby?”

Arya nodded, “Keep going.”

Gendry noticed how her breathing was becoming more and more erratic, making her chest heave against him. He looked at her head tilted back and remembered how she had looked while she was riding, looking up at the sky. He decided that he liked her like this even better.

He continued to hit that spot inside of her until he felt her legs start to shake again. He smiled bringing his hand back to the nub between her legs. Arya froze again before shuttering around his cock. That was enough to make him come.

They sat in silence as their breathing calmed.

“I’m sorry I left you in the library.”

Arya looked at him, “You just better not do it again.”

He smiled at her, “Never.”


	2. Chapter 2

They walked into the Great Hall side by side the next day, drawing snickers from the Wildlings they passed. Arya led her husband past the cheers to the High Table, which was immensely more subdued. It seemed, as Gendry could have predicted, that Lady Catelyn was particularly distraught by last night’s events. 

“Do you think your mother’s head will spin backwards?” Gendry asked.

Arya smiled back at him, “Not in public, at least.”

A soft smile graced Gendry’s face. He had been concerned that when Arya woke up this morning in a small cot in the back of the forge that she might finally freak out, that she would tell him that he should not have intervened and saved her from the Wildling, that she would scream at him that she did not want to be married to him. Instead, Arya had woken up softly, and she had only pulled him on top of her. There had been a different sort of screaming that Gendry liked much better.

A chair had been placed beside Arya’s usual one, most likely by a servant following Lord Eddard’s directives and not Lady Catelyn’s. Arya’s father smiled at them as they sat down. Catelyn had looked like she was trying not to cry. Robb was the one to welcome them first.

“Mother has already sent a raven down to King’s Landing. She says that her daughter will not be married to a bastard and asked him to legitimize Gendry.” Robb’s voice was soft, but his eyes glinted in amusement.

“What did Father say about it?” Arya asked.

Robb shrugged, “He does not seem worried about it. Apparently, he saw this coming, as a lot of us did I might add. I’m sure if you are not happy with your new husband that he could arrange Gendry a trip over a cliff for you though.”

Gendry leaned closer to the siblings, “I’m right here, you know. And she certainly has nothing to be unhappy about.”

Arya smiled and blushed scarlet, looking down at her food.

Robb’s smile dropped, “And we’re done having this conversation.”

Theon laughed from the other side of Robb. He leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin on his face. Arya noticed that he had a black eye. It was only a little lighter than when Gendry had punched him, “Jon got wasted last night. You want to know what he told me?”

“Piss off, Theon,” Robb said under his breath.

Theon laughed, “He said that he was upset that his little sister knew what it was like in the bedchamber before he did.”

“And Theon got his ass handed to him after he said that,” Robb interjected.

“Why?” Arya asked.

“I told him that this wasn’t the first time you had taken a roll in the back of the forge,” Theon said.

Gendry was about to get up from the table and give Theon another black eye to match the other, but his wife stopped him with a soft reply. “Actually, it took us a while to make it to the back of the forge.”

Theon laughed loudly. Robb choked. Gendry smiled, remembering Arya’s head tipped back on his anvil.

Just then, a black shadow fell over the table, and the crew looked up to see an awkward and clearly hungover Jon. He refused to look anyone in the eye but managed to look in Arya’s general direction, “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Thanks,” Arya replied softly.

Jon cleared his throat and looked in Gendry’s general direction, “Thank you for saving her.”

Gendry shrugged, “She would have figured it out. She didn’t really need me.”

Arya’s hand found his under the table, and Gendry let his thumb glide back and forth across her soft skin.

Jon nodded, “Still...thank you. And I never want to know about any of it.”

Gendry laughed, “Fair enough.”


End file.
